


Familiar

by elirwen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Familiars, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elirwen/pseuds/elirwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a fairly powerful sorcerer means one doesn’t have to worry about being attacked. That is what Merlin always believed. Looking back, Merlin has to admit he was quite foolish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar

Being a fairly powerful sorcerer means one doesn’t have to worry about being attacked. That is what Merlin always believed. Looking back, Merlin has to admit he was quite foolish. 

~x~

The evening starts well, great even. The club is quite busy for a Thursday night and there is no shortage of men willing to dance with him. His magic is constantly warning him about danger but he’s used to that. It never reacts well to the mass of bodies grinding together to the rhythm of music. That’s why he doesn’t instantly realize that the short sharp pain on his neck isn’t his latest dancer’s nail scratching him accidentally. Only when he feels his body grow heavy, his mind clouding, he knows something is terribly wrong. He tries to reach for his magic and fight back, but he can’t concentrate, his eyes falling shut against his will. Not even the loud blaring of the music can keep him awake.

~x~

He’s cold. His head hurts. He blinks his eyes open, getting used to the dim lighting of the place he’s in. Turning his head, he can see the room is small without any windows. A man is sitting beside his bed. A man who is now aware of Merlin’s wakefulness and reaching for something on the bedside table. It takes just a second for Merlin to cast a sleeping spell inside his head, but instead of watching the man doze off, pain spreads through his limbs, making him gasp out in shock. Then a cloth is pressed over his mouth and nose and he can’t stop himself from inhaling the sweet smell, consciousness leaving him once more. 

~x~

He’s being carried somewhere when he wakes up next. There’s a gag in his mouth and both his hands and feet are tied. He tries a scouting spell to learn more about his whereabouts, but the moment he releases it, intense pain sweeps through his body and he cries out, the sound muffled by the gag. 

He’s brought into a fairly large hall and laid down on a cold stone block. He doesn’t want to think about it as of an altar, but he knows that’s exactly what it is. The flames of dozens candles are the only source of light. There are no windows. They tie his hands and legs to the stone and form a circle around him. There’re six of them, dressed in long black robes. The one to his right pulls out a dagger and Merlin’s already racing pulse speeds up even more.

He pushes his magic against his bindings. The resulting pain makes his whole body shake, tears running down his cheeks. He’s not ready to die. Panic makes him try once more, even though he knows they are using some sort of magic suppressors on him. For a moment, he can’t breathe. The agony of his own magic fighting against him is too much for his body to handle.

“The sedative,” someone says and two men hold him still while the third one injects him with a clear liquid. 

Everything goes foggy and slightly distant. He briefly wonders which style of sacrificial ritual they will choose. A stab to the heart would be a fast way to go. Even bleeding out after having his carotid artery cut wouldn’t take too long. 

When the man positions his dagger above his abdomen and starts chanting, Merlin knows he’s in for a much worse option. They don’t want just the sacrifice of his magic and life. They want to strengthen the ritual with prolonged pain and struggle for survival. Once the dagger finds its way into Merlin’s body, it won’t pierce any vital organ or artery. He’ll bleed out slowly and painfully with nothing but the sedative coursing his veins to ease his passing. His gaze jumps from person to person as he silently pleads for mercy, but they don’t even look at his face, their eyes on the dagger. 

When four of them press his body to the altar, he knows the time has come. The sobs come unbidden, and he sends one last wish to the gods, asking them to watch over his mother after he’s gone. 

The dagger enters his body. The shock makes his breath stutter and his magic acts up once more. The dagger is withdrawn and the pain of the wound mixes with the magical backslash of his bindings. 

~x~

Everything hurts. Exhaustion is filling his limbs. His magic flutters uselessly just under his skin, prickly discomfort in comparison to the sharp pain of each drawn breath. 

~x~

It takes a lot of effort to keep his eyes open. When he opens them again after what feels like a minute, but could also be a second or an hour, the men in robes are gone. He blinks once more and there’s a handsome blonde leaning over him. Merlin’s vision is dimming around the edges and he smiles at the guy. He had no idea Grim Reaper could look so good. 

The Reaper smiles back, his lips are moving, but Merlin doesn’t hear what is being said. He lets go and darkness follows.

~x~

Incessant beeping isn’t exactly what one likes to hear upon waking up. He doesn’t remember setting such a ringtone on his phone, but it wouldn’t be the first time it changed without his say so. Technology might be more magical than people believe.

He blindly reaches to the side to grab his phone from the bedside table, but there’s nothing there. Opening his eyes, he fails to recognize his surroundings. The beeping speeds up. There’s a sudden movement to his left and he turns his head to look, coming face to face with a blonde-haired stranger.

The memories kick in. The kidnapping. The pain. The altar. Dying. 

Is this what afterlife looks like? He always thought it would be less corporeal. 

He tries to sit up, but the blonde stops him.

“You need to rest,” he says, smoothing the covers over Merlin’s torso. 

“Who are you?” Merlin wants to ask, but his throat closes around the first word and he coughs which triggers sharp pain in his abdomen. 

What did he do in his life to make his afterlife suck?

“I’ll get a nurse, okay? And I promise I’ll explain everything later. Just try to relax.”

A nurse? Afterlife has nurses? But then his eyes skim the room once more and settle on the monitor behind, the source of the beeping. Apparently, afterlife has hospitals. Or what is much more likely, he’s not really dead. 

~x~

Now that he knows the blonde isn’t a Grim Reaper, Merlin’s mind fills with even more questions. He checks his wrists, panic rising once more when he sees the silver bands still firmly clasped around both of them. He thinks a simple harmless spell and stops the moment he feels the ache of his magic turned on him by the suppressors. He needs to get them off.

Without further hesitation, he starts tugging at the band, but it’s too small and his hand is too big no matter how he positions his fingers. He tugs harder, ignoring the pain of the metal digging into his skin.

“No, don’t,” the blonde calls out, rushing back to the bed with the nurse in tow.

Merlin manages to evade his hands for a moment, but then they settle atop of his and still his attempts to free himself of the binding. 

“I know it hurts and you want them off, but you will only hurt yourself further. The expert on magical bindings is on his way. You need to hold on for a little bit longer.”

Merlin doesn’t know why or how, but he can feel warmth spreading through his limbs from where their skin meets. His mind is warning him he should be worried about that, but his instinct tells him the man isn’t a danger to him. Even his magic, trapped by the bindings, seems eager to greet the stranger instead of pushing him away. 

“Who are you?” Merlin croaks, avoiding a coughing fit this time. 

“I’m Arthur,” the blonde replies, gently pulling Merlin’s hands apart, but not letting go. “I’m your familiar.”

“What?” Merlin whispers, confused. 

The calm from Arthur’s touch mixes with fuzzy numbness of whatever the nurse injected into his IV while he didn’t pay her any attention. 

“I already promised I’d explain everything later. Your body needs rest to heal.”

He lays Merlin’s hands down and Merlin already misses the connection. The sedatives are dragging him under and he doesn’t fight them. Neither does he fight the smile his lips form when he feels Arthur’s hand grasp his before sleep overtakes him.

~x~

Free of the suppressors and sedatives, Merlin’s mind is finally clear enough for explanations. The reality of Arthur telling the truth about being Merlin’s familiar sinks in even before anything is said. He can feel the bond now and knows that it will only grow stronger if they get to know each other better. 

“I knew I was someone’s familiar since I was about eighteen,” Arthur starts his explaining. “That was almost seven years ago.”

“I started training the advanced magical skills around that time,” Merlin says. “It must have awoken the bond.”

“I always wondered about that,” Arthur says. “At first, I didn’t know what was happening to me. I had strange dreams and sometimes what I felt didn’t feel like my own emotions. My father even sent me to a psychologist when the vivid dreams made me unable to get enough rest at night and it interfered with my studies. It took only a few sessions for her to realize my new problem wasn’t a problem at all. She recommended me one of her colleagues specializing in the field of familiar psychology and training.”

Merlin knows there aren’t many specialists in that particular field. While sorcerers account for about 5% of world population, familiars are much rarer. Less than 10% of sorcerers share a bond with a familiar and it still isn’t clear how the bonded are chosen. Some claim the amount of power is the most important factor while others believe in higher power or destiny. 

“Freya helped me learn control and I learned to discern between my own feelings and the glimpses of yours, but until three days ago, I never felt a pull that would guide me to your location. Not even a vague one,” Arthur says.

It’s often the familiar who discovers the bond first and begins searching for his other half. Sometimes, the search takes days or week, other times it takes years or even decades. There has been tragic cases of familiars never finding their sorcerer, feeling the bond go cold as the person they were supposed to help protect died. 

“When I found you on that altar, I thought my life would turn into a copy of Restwood,” Arthur says, his grip on Merlin’s hand tightening. 

Merlin still remembers the heartbreaking story covered by media a few years ago. A familiar arrived at a car accident scene, his bond showing him a clear way to his sorcerer for the first time since its awakening, only to hold his other half through his last minute, easing his passing.

“I did think my Grim Reaper turned out to be rather handsome,” Merlin says in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“So it really was what you mumbled there. I thought I misheard,” Arthur says. “We’ll need to work on sorting your priorities.”

“My priorities are just fine, thank you,” Merlin says, blood rushing to his cheeks. “You don’t have to be such a prat about it.”

“Your life is my concern now too,” Arthur says and even has the audacity to grin at him. “We should start with teaching you how to behave in a club.”

Merlin instantly regrets letting Arthur stay when he recounted to the police what he remembered about his abduction. He rips his hand from Arthur’s hold. 

“You might have saved my life and you might be my familiar, but if you’re a homophobic asshole, you can bugger right off.”

The grin slips off Arthur’s face, replaced by stunned expression. 

“I’m bi and I’m not a hypocrite,” Arthur blurts after a moment of silence. “I meant you being more careful in clubs, you not giving up. Because you totally gave up on me back there. You smiled at me and passed out. Your heart stopped beating. You weren’t breathing. I felt the bond grow cold and it stayed that way while I was giving you first aid, while you were in surgery, even in the ICU hours after the surgery.” 

Arthur is almost shouting by the end of his speech and for the first time in his life, Merlin feels the effects of their bond for himself, the sickening wave of fear making him feel dizzy. 

“Oh,” slips past Merlin’s lips. He’s not capable of coherent speech at the moment, too overwhelmed by emotions, his and Arthur’s, by what he just learned. He reaches out instead, laying his hand over Arthur’s which is currently fisting the sheet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, feeling and seeing Arthur relax fractionally.

“Why did I have to get an idiot for a sorcerer?” Arthur asks, his voice slightly shaky. 

Merlin knows Arthur doesn’t really mean the insult. He’s getting tired again, the major injury and blood loss don’t leave person with too much stamina, but he’d like to comfort Arthur in some way before nodding off again. 

“Who else would be able to handle me? I’m a bit of a handful. At least my Mum always says so,” Merlin says, but Arthur doesn’t react beyond relaxing his grip on the sheet. “Do you want to cuddle? I heard familiars like hugs.”

Arthur lets out a short laugh, but turns his hand palm up and links their fingers together. 

“Just go to sleep.”

~x~

Working as a martial arts instructor gives Arthur enough freedom to quit at his previous studio and start again elsewhere in matter of just a few weeks. He rents an apartment in London, not too big, but not too small either. Merlin ends up sleeping over most nights as they spend a lot of their evenings learning more about each other and the bond. After a bit over a month, they decide it would be convenient for both of them if they simply shared the apartment.

Merlin moves out of his dorm room the very next day even though his lease lasts for three more weeks. 

Arthur tries to teach Merlin basics of self-defense, mostly failing. Merlin talks about his thesis on elemental magic and makes it rain and snow right in the middle of their living room. Arthur tosses a pillow at him after he creates a storm cloud generating tiny bolts of static electricity to make Arthur’s hair stand up. 

“Do you have an animal form?” Merlin asks suddenly, the pillow lying on the floor next to him and the storm cloud dissipating into nothingness. 

“Not every familiar has one,” Arthur answers. 

“So you don’t,” Merlin states.

“I used to do the mental exercises meant to help channel the change, but I never felt a thing, so I stopped bothering. Haven’t tried for years now.”

“Some familiars can only change after meeting their sorcerer for the first time,” Merlin says, levitating the pillow absentmindedly. 

“You’ve been thinking about that a lot, haven’t you?” Arthur says. 

“I can’t help being curious,” Merlin says, shrugging. “Do you still remember those exercises?”

“The basics maybe,” Arthur says. 

“Would you be willing to try again for me?” Merlin asks, smiling sweetly. 

His smile is his secret weapon. Not many people manage to deny him anything when he unleashes it. And Arthur definitely isn’t one of those people.

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“If you can keep quiet,” Arthur says with a smirk. 

“I can totally keep quiet. I’m master of quiet. There’s no one better at keeping quiet.”

“I can see that,” Arthur says, amused, but he’s already settling into a position for meditation. 

~x~

Merlin lies on the floor next to Arthur, slightly bored but also fascinated by Arthur being so calm and relaxed. Arthur is a man of action and he usually doesn’t stay still for too long. Yet here he is, almost hour into meditation. 

Merlin feels his bond becoming agitated and he resists the urge to touch Arthur at first, but he gives in after several more minutes and lays his hand on Arthur’s knee. The bond settles and Arthur doesn’t react at first, but after a few seconds, his breathing pattern changes, his lips falling slightly open, and his brow furrows. 

“Arthur?” Merlin asks, worried, but Arthur is still lost in his new headspace. 

When Arthur’s breathing grows labored, Merlin kneels up without thinking, moves behind Arthur and wraps his arms around him.

“Arthur, wake up!” he speaks right into his ear. 

Arthur’s eyes fly open and Merlin feels magic fill the air. But it’s not his magic. A second later, an invisible force pushes him away from Arthur. It’s not a violent throw, just a nudge that shifts him a few inches towards the couch. There’s a bright flash of yellow light and Merlin is left staring at a big furry behind. 

“Holy shit,” Merlin gasps, eyes wide. 

A lion, because that’s who the big furry behind belongs to, turns around to face him and lets out a growl as he moves closer.

“Don’t eat me,” Merlin squeaks right before he gets face full of lion mane. 

He buries his hands in the lion’s, Arthur’s, fur when he realizes he’s just showing affection, not attacking, and lets go of the defensive spells he was about to release. 

Merlin’s heart rate slowly returns to normal, petting Arthur who seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Of course you’d be demanding,” Merlin mutters as Arthur headbutts him again. “Ewwww,” he whines as Arthur licks him in retaliation to the remark.

~x~

No matter how hard they try, Arthur seems to be incapable of turning into his animal form without the initiation of Merlin’s touch. They don’t talk about that one incident of Arthur losing it and crying into Merlin’s shoulder after two hours of failed attempts to change.

They also don’t talk about the evenings spent together in Arthur’s bed, half-asleep, Arthur in his lion form and Merlin tucked to his side. 

About one third of familiar bonds grow into romantic relationships. That piece of knowledge keeps popping up in Merlin’s head. He tries to decipher if their own bond is just one of a very deep friendship or something more, but he’s still not sure. He’s seen Arthur with his friends and he doesn’t seem to act in a different way around them. There’s less touching, but that’s probably because of the bond, not because of Arthur’s feelings. 

He’s sure he has feelings for Arthur, so maybe he should just ask outright. Things would be probably very awkward for a few days (or weeks… or months…), but at least he’d know where he stands. 

But not now. He doesn’t need distractions from his exams. In two weeks maybe.

~x~

“Let’s resolve this without violence, okay?” Merlin says, looking the sorceress straight in the eyes. 

“That scholarship was meant to be mine. You took it away from me!” she yells.

He knew Sophia was a bit unstable, but he didn’t expect her to go full on psycho. She must have somehow learned about his habit of going for a walk into a forest park before his exams and decided to confront him when he’d be alone. 

Instead of preparing a spell, she pulls out a gun and aims it right at him. Merlin raises his shield without thinking, but he can also see the faint shimmering aura around the weapon. It’s enchanted and there is no guarantee his shield will hold against this particular kind of enchantment. And who knows what else it might do.

“What will you earn by killing me?” he asks, not moving. 

He could send a sleeping charm, but she might still fire. 

“You will be dead,” she shouts, her whole body shaking.

“And you’ll be a murderer. It doesn’t have to be that way,” Merlin says. “Walk away and I swear to never tell anyone.”

“I failed half of my exams because I had to work instead of studying,” she continues yelling, “while you’re playing house with your stupid familiar.” 

Shit, this is bad. Merlin raises one more shield and takes a deep breath. He’s going to cast that sleeping spell after all. 

But before he can do that, he hears a growl and a golden blur runs past him, taking Sophia down. A loud crack resonates through the quiet of the forest. 

“Arthur!” Merlin calls out, already on the move. 

Arthur stumbles to the side, revealing knocked out Sophia, and slides to the ground. When Merlin lands on his knees next to him, he’s already back to his human form, blood soaking through his white T-shirt. 

“Of all the prattish things to do,” Merlin mutters, one hand pressing over the wound while he dials the emergency number on his phone. 

“My friend was shot,” he says the moment his call is answered.

~x~

“They’ll be here any minute. Just hold on,” Merlin says, ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes. 

Arthur is so pale and seems to be on the verge of passing out. It’s not right. He’s supposed to be golden and happy. Merlin feels the strain on the bond. He wants to help, but his healing magic is abysmal. He can barely handle a papercut. 

The medics arrive, having followed the path Merlin’s magic highlighted for them. They push him aside, but don’t stop him from holding onto Arthur’s shoulder. They must know from the call that Arthur is his familiar. 

“I forbid you to die,” Merlin says and presses a kiss to Arthur’s brow before they load him onto a stretcher and hurry towards the ambulance. 

~x~

He gives his statement to the police while waiting for Arthur’s surgery to be over. He learns that Sophia awoke before they loaded her into an ambulance and fought the medics and policemen, confessing to the assault amongst all her yelling. 

Their bond seems colder than usual, but he can feel that Arthur is stable, just very weak. Even then, the waiting is pure torture. 

~x~

Merlin is unable to let go of Arthur’s hand. He might be sleeping peacefully right in front of him, a hint of colour even returning to his cheeks, but Merlin still needs that simple connection. He thinks about Arthur’s description of what he went through after finding Merlin on that altar and shudders. Arthur’s state is much less severe than Merlin’s was back then, and yet Merlin is just a ball of nerves.

Arthur chooses that moment to wake up, his fingers twitching in Merlin’s hold. Merlin doesn’t bother going for the nurse in person, just hits the call button and stands up. 

“You were lucky. The bullet missed everything really important,” he says. 

“Are you okay?” Arthur croaks.

“You’re unbelievable,” Merlin sighs just as nurse enters the room. “Yes, I’m fine.”

The nurse checks Arthur’s vitals, adjusts the amount of painkillers and leaves to get him some ice-chips. 

“What were you thinking, jumping at her like that?” Merlin asks, sitting down on the side of the bed. 

“You were in danger,” Arthur says.

“Being my familiar doesn’t mean your life means less than mine,” Merlin says, caressing Arthur’s forearm.

The nurse comes back with the cup of ice-chips and Merlin takes it from her with a thank you. He feeds Arthur a few chips.

“That’s not why I did it,” Arthur says after he swallows the melted water. 

“What other idiotic reason could you have for doing a stunt like that?” Merlin asks, offering Arthur another spoonful of ice. 

Arthur shrugs and winces as it pulls at his wound. They’re silent for a few minutes while he keeps feeding Arthur the ice chips. He puts the empty cup aside and takes Arthur’s hand in both of his again. 

“Would loving you be acceptable idiotic reason?” Arthur asks.

Merlin’s head snaps up at Arthur’s quiet question and he stares at him, lips parting in shock. 

“Forget it. It’s just the morphine talking,” Arthur mumbles, but Merlin knows he’s lying. 

How did they manage to skip their first date, kiss and all the other firsts and go straight to talking about love? He takes a deep breath. It’s time to be honest.

“I was planning to ask about your feelings towards me after the end of the exam period. I didn’t want to risk awkwardness destroying my ability to study,” Merlin admits. 

“So you knew,” Arthur says.

“No, not about your feelings,” Merlin says. “I knew about mine. But I wasn’t sure if they were reciprocated.”

“Oh, okay,” Arthur says, his eyes sliding to their joined hands. “We totally missed our opportunity to proclaim undying love to each other while I was lying in the puddle of my own blood. It would have been much better story to tell people.”

“Shut up, you prat,” Merlin says, but he can’t keep the smile off his face and leans down to place a soft kiss to Arthur’s lips. 

~x~

“Fuck,” Merlin swears, retreating a few steps back from the bathtub.

He hears a crash from the kitchen.

“Did you just turn into your lion form because I got startled by a big spider?” Merlin calls out.

No answer. Which means he totally did. 

“We need to do something about that,” Arthur says a minute or so later, leaning against the doorframe. “I really liked that tea mug.” He pouts. 

“We’ll do lots and lots of training,” Merlin says, stepping into Arthur’s space and pressing himself close. “We’ll also do other stuff,” he adds and pulls Arthur into a kiss. “But first,” he nods towards the tub, “get rid of that monster for me, my brave saviour.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also [on tumblr](http://elirwen.tumblr.com).
> 
> Yes, that last scene is totally inspired by video diaries.


End file.
